I have some work for you
by Hal's Angel
Summary: Hal calls Rook to help with a body... and ends up staying for more than he bargained for when Lord Harry comes to play. HalxRook


**Disclaimer time:**

**I do not own Being Human, nor do I own any of the characters... as much as I would love to claim Lord Harry all for myself. All belong to the BBC and the brilliant Toby Whithouse. I'm just borrowing.**

**M for mature themes! Some violence, smut and the like. Don't like, don't read. HalxRook.**

**With that said, enjoy! x**

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><p>"I believe I have some work for you," said the voice over the receiver. He spoke quietly, detached even, and Rook found himself as shocked as he was relieved to once again have purpose. How could he have doubted it? <em>This <em>is what he was trained for. _This _was why he was needed! Fuck, if they couldn't see that, then perhaps they deserved what was coming to them! But he owed Hal. He had given him the blood after all; he had opened that door. Perhaps Hal could still be of use to him? Perhaps he could still save the world from the monsters that roamed it?

"I'll be right over." Rook's voice was nearly as silently monotone as the first, and Hal knew he must be judging him, questioning what it was he so suddenly needed him for. Perhaps he was running through the possibilities in his head? God, he must have heard some stories. The infamous Hal Yorke! _Lord Harry. _The things he had done... the blood... _Fuck! He could almost taste it!_

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed and pressing his palms to his temples. He couldn't afford to think like that! Especially not now. Not when the release he had felt as Larry slowly slipped away was still so fresh in his mind. Not when he was filled him with a buzzing giddiness that caused him to fidget guiltily, attempting to fight the rising sensations. Not when he felt almost justified in what he had done, wanting nothing more than to kill the next person he saw, to drink them dry and to... _argh!_

He forced himself to look at the body on the floor, shaking away the thoughts and trying to feel guilty. He didn't though. Not about Larry anyway, he felt more shame in letting himself down than about the shell of a man who laid sprawled on the floor in front of him. Larry was a dick. And he positively _reeked_ of dog! The sooner Rook got here the better, he decided, as he realised he was bearing his fangs at the dead werewolf. Somethings never changed.

Before too long there was a prompt knock on the door and Rook's tall, slender figure could be seen through the foggy glass.

_About time._

Hal moved towards the entry, thoughts of composure and control running laps around his head as he took a moment to open the door, smiling at the man who stood tall and authoritatively on the porch. Rook returned his smile with a taught, serious expression - _did he have another? - _and shuffled his way inside, placing a suitcase down on the counter of the island bar and looking down at Hal's latest victim.

"Ah," he said, as detached as always, looking back up at Hal with sharp, blue eyes. "Just the one?"

"I'm sorry?" Hal replied, a little taken aback.

"Just the one _body_." Rook clarified, and Hal gave a succinct nod in response.

"Good." Rook reached into the pockets of his suit, pulling out a pair of cheap, throw-away gloves and stretching them on to his hands. He began to say something about his department being shut down, about being unable to perhaps fulfil his role the way Hal intended in the future, but Hal stopped listening.

Everything was drowned out by the sound of blood. He could hear Rook's heartbeat, not quite as steady as his composure, and could hear the blood moving as it was pumped through his veins with each _thud. _It's repetitiveness was taunting, and he could swear each beat was louder than the last. Impulsively, his tongue met with his lips and he acknowledged the burning ache in his throat, unable to restrain a gasp as it spread to his chest, the heat only heightening his craving.

"I'm just about done here," Rook stated, looking at his stopwatch and breaking Hal out of his trance.

"Oh? Right, good. Yes." he mumbled back, his eyes meeting with Rook's for less than a second before switching their focus to his neck. He stepped forward, causing Rook to stare back at him suspiciously, raising an eyebrow on a near-expressionless face before turning away and taking the body with him, now nicely tucked away in a body-bag.

"Wait!" Hal called after him from the doorway, and Rook turned to him expectantly. "Will you come back? After... you know. I need to talk to you. It's important."

Rook seemed to consider this for a bit, no doubt unnerved by Hal's odd behaviour, but eventually responded with a nod before getting into the van that sad idly across the street. Hal swallowed back the urge to run after him right then and there, to rip his throat out and drain him completely. He wanted it so bad! No matter though. He'd be back soon, and knowing Rook, he'd be as prompt as possible.

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><p>It felt like a lifetime passing, waiting for Rook to reappear. He couldn't take it! Just the thought of blood was sending him crazy, even more so than usual, and he knew that he should be fighting to suppress the urges but he was just <em>so tired!<em> He didn't want to fight anymore, feeling Larry struggle through his final moments was just too satisfying. He knew now he was losing an impossible war, and he wasn't even sure which side _he _was on anymore. Who was he? Hal Yorke? Or _Lord Harry?_

The low, animalistic growl that escaped his lips was all the confirmation he needed as he listened for Rook's van pulling up out front of the house. There was a knock soon after, and it took all of Hal's strength not to run to the door.

_Don't rush. You're Lord Hal for fuck's sake. You can do better than that…_

He smiled to himself, and slowly made his way to the entrance, waiting even longer before opening the door in a small but satisfying act of power-play.

"Drink?" he asked, his voice calm and polite but the accompanying smile not quite reaching his eyes, Rook moving cautiously past him and into the living area.

"No, I don't suppose I'll be staying long. What was it you wanted to talk about?" He walked with purpose, holding his hands behind his back and turning on his heel once having reached the centre of the room. Looking at Hal, a flicker of concern flashed across his expression, but Hal knew Rook wasn't that easily frightened - could he sense the shift in his intentions? Could he see how different a vampire now stood before him?

Hal let his eyes search out the veins underneath Rook's skin, reading them like they were roads on a map and wetting his lips involuntarily. Rook looked him steadily up and down, noting how the domino he had previously been spinning between his fingers now lay discarded on the floor, and took a careful step backwards.

This seemed to provoke Hal, as before he could react he was being slammed against a wall, his vision going spotty as a hand pressed against his chest, a seemingly effortless act that had him well and truly pinned.

"I thought you were better than that." Hal grumbled through clenched teeth, laughing as Rook dragged a wooden cross out of his suit pocket and held it in front of the old one. "You know that doesn't work on me!" he chided, raising an eyebrow as realisation swept across his features, "But you thought it'd buy you the time to reach _this_," Hal teased, dangling a wooden stake from his free hand.

Rook sighed, watching hopelessly as his captive took the stake and moved the hand from his chest to his chin, turning his head forcefully to the side and with the point of the weapon, slicing a line across the soft flesh of his cheek. As the first beads of blood seeped out from the cut, the vampire's eyes went dark and his fangs pressed against his bottom lip, a staggered gasp making its way out of his now trembling body.

"It's been _so fucking long!"_ he muttered to himself, causing Rook to shiver as he felt the tip of Hal's tongue against his skin, cleaning away the gash. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on something other than the closeness of the vampire before him - perhaps he could stage an escape? But he was too frightened. His whole body was quivering and having lost his only weapon, he knew he was utterly defenceless against the monster that stood before him.

_You've done it now, old chap. You wanted to die, didn't you? At least Hal will make a spectacle of it._

He didn't have time to feel relieved when the rough texture of the other man's tongue left his face, as it was all too quickly replaced with fangs in his neck, causing him to scream as hot, searing pain shot through his body and Hal's grip tightened, the fingers of one hand pressing hard into his arm like needles whilst the other ripped away at his collar and tie.

When Hal finally let off, tilting his head back in a euphoric sweep and gasping at the air, Rook let out an involuntary shudder as he felt the cool air hit the inside of his throat, and tried to swallow against the sensation of his own blood sliding down its walls. Soon, Hal's forehead was leaning against his own, making him gag at the stench of his own blood on his breath, and his hand was being pushed towards the other man's crutch.

_No. He couldn't… He wouldn't!_

Hal smiled wickedly back at the man as he saw the pleading realisation in his eyes, and pushed Rook's palm against the bulge in his pants, slowly rubbing it up and down and letting out a quiet moan. He released his grip, and when Rook didn't continue the motion he'd set in place he moved closer, a growl resonating from somewhere deep inside his chest. Panicked, Rook pushed hard against the other man, palming him as best he could and in turn changing the growl to a grunted moan.

Suddenly it wasn't enough though, and Hal was fumbling with his zipper and shoving Rook's arm down the waistband of his pants, curling his fingers around his member and watching as Rook set to work, needing no demonstration this time.

He swallowed back his repulsion, closing his eyes and tilting his had away from the action, as if that could distance him from the fact that he was being forced to give his captor a sordid hand-job, sobbing as he felt the pin-points of Hal's fangs scrape across the top of his ear.

"Don't stop." He whispered, his tone cold and threatening, following the curve of Rook's ear with his teeth and scraping his fangs back down his neck until he found the existing tear, carefully biting back down and drinking slowly and deliberately, but no less painfully. Rook didn't scream this time though, instead letting out a defeated whimper as he felt the fangs slide slowly back into his flesh, still pumping his hand up and down, in and out of Hal's waistband in an act that repulsed him, but that he was too afraid to stop.

Before long, Hal began to buck against Rook's hand, slowly at first, but as his excitement heightened so did his tempo, biting down hard as he concentrated on his nether-regions, rotating his hips and pumping himself in and out of Rook's grasp. He had gotten so close to the man that he could no longer move his arm, even if he had wanted to, pinning him to the wall with the weight of his body as he continued to grind and buck, blood-drunk and deliriously horny.

He threw his head back, panting, and grabbed Rook roughly by the hair. Never letting up in his rhythmic pumping, Hal shoved Rook's head to the side and bit into the opposite side of his throat, this time releasing another scream which only made Hal moan louder.

_He was gonna rip his head off! Oh God. Oh God! He really was going to die here! Fuck! _

As Hal got impossibly close, Rook found himself unable to breathe. He didn't know whether it was due to the holes in his neck, the blood loss or the constriction of his lungs as Hal pressed himself even closer, and frankly he wasn't sure which was more terrifying. As his vision began to fade in a strange, enveloping darkness, something cracked, the sound harsh and blunt in contrast to the sounds of drunken sex coming out of Hal. _What was it? His pelvis? A rib? Both? _

As this new pain shot through Rook's body he cried out, causing Hal to pull his head back in pleasure as he quivered against Rook, taking in silent gasps and grunting as he released his load over Rook's mangled hand, moaning loudly as he took a step back and removed the hand from his pants, allowing Rook's body to slide down the wall, resting defeated and helpless in a slump on the floor.

Hal ran the back of his wrist across his mouth, wiping away blood but not really clearing away anything, smiling down at the man on the floor and doing up his fly.

"What to do with you?" He nearly sang the words, his eyes darting towards the basement door as a new, more subtle smile played at his lips. "Oh, Dominic. The fun we will have."


End file.
